Queercorn and Cookie the Monster's Race Plan

We are nearly there. We have shipped our bikes and we can't remember what day it is and we are counting down the workouts.

Saturday, August 30: Run 10 miles.

Sunday, August 31: Double spin class. Pack for Madison.

Monday, Sept. 1: Swim 45 minutes.

Tuesday, Sept. 2: Fly to Chicago. Drive to Madison. Check in at the Candlewood Suites.

Wednesday, Sept. 3: Jog 3 miles. Drive out to the bike course and drive it. Nap. Eat well. Hydrate. Watch movies and dumb tv (like John and Kate + 8). Hang out with the McJabneys (jennifer and trina).

Thursday, Sept. 4: Pick up packet 10 a.m.-4 p.m. Pick up bikes and bags at 1 p.m. Swim one loop of course, if possible. Check out the helix and transitions areas. Check out the merchandising areas. Start organizing transition and special needs bags. T1, T2, Bike Special Needs, Run Special Needs. Nap. Hydrate. Eat Pagliai's Pizza brought to us from Iowa City. Go to the Great Dane Brewery. Email Pig a birthday card. Email people our bib numbers so they can track us on race day. Go back out to bike course, with Tula, Pepper, et. al and ride a couple of hills.

Friday, Sept. 5: Go to race site at 8 a.m. for Gatorade bag check and practice swim, if we are not able to swim on Thursday. Try to get out of mandatory athlete meeting or attend from 7:30-8:30 p.m. If we go to mandatory meeting, have family dinner prior to meeting. Nap. Hydrate. Plan parking for Sunday. Have family pizza dinner and pass out secret surprises.

Saturday, Sept. 6: 10-3 p.m. bike and transition gear check-in. BIKES: to Monona Terrace Parking lot level 4. SWIM TO BIKE BAGS: Ballroom C & D. BIKE TO RUN BAGS: Hall of Ideas Room G & J. Check and re-check special needs bags which we take to course on day of race. NO NAPPING. Hydrate. Take warm bath and klonapin and get in bed at 7 p.m. to be asleep by 8 p.m.

RACE DAY~Sunday, Sept. 7:
3:30 a.m. awaken. Eat two eggs and two pieces of toast with peanut butter and jam. Have a coffee with cream (jen but not meg). Drink 1/2 liter of H2O and 1/2 liter of nuun or gatorade. Meg will wake & feed Lucy in order to drain the boobs as much as possible. Parents are getting Lucy ready for the day and dealing with all her needs other than the boobie feed. Get dressed: bathing suit, sweats or shorts, t-shirt, chacos, baseball hat.

4:30 a.m. leave.

5 a.m.: Body marking. Check bikes (tires, computer, cookie/grover, tubes, pumps, food on bike). Put Friction Zone samples on bikes. Count racks, find landmarks to make sure we can find our bikes after the swim. Agree on place to meet when ready to head out on bike course. Meg will feed Lucy again if able. Head to swim start by 6am. Put on wetsuits and liberally apply Friction Zone to rub areas (neck, inner arms, lats). Mark our caps and feet with hot pink sharpies so we can detect each other in the water, maybe. Kiss family good bye!

6:30 a.m. Enter water for the deep water start

7 a.m. mass swim start

Swim:
This picture was taken on IMMoo race day 2007...while my friends were trying to sign me up...didn't get in! Later got in through collegiate divison. The lesson of this story is, don't go snorkeling on sign up day!

Seed ourselves midpack-frontish on inside if possible. Ask people around us their time predictions to get a sense of if we are where we should be to avoid as much running over/being run over as we can. Pee in my wetsuit. Relax and float. Avoid using energy as much as can. Get goggles situated and not leaking. Jen-put in earplugs & nose clip. Visualize the swim ahead of us. Sight as needed to stay on course. Glide, stay long, stay in our bodies and our swims. Navigate as can without wasting energy. Remember the goal of the swim is to swim as swiftly as we can while remaining efficient, very TI like. Dedicating the swim to Meghan in hopes that her fish-like qualities assist us. Remember to draft if we can. Agree to not worry about each other during the swim, but find each other at transition. Remember that body contact is not personal, it is inevitable. Try and pee in water at end of swim. At finish, cross mat, let helpers help us and strippers strip us (hee hee). Walk/run in shame up helix in bathing suit and hope that none of the 10,000 spectators see us. Be invisible.

Finish strong goal: 1:25:00
Realistic goal: 1:15:00
Pie in the sky goal: 1:10:00

Meg swim start IM CDA 2006

T1:
Dry off. Put on shorts with Friction Zone on the bits. Put on sports bra, jersey, gloves, socks, shoes, helmet, sunglasses. Put in eye drops. If cold, wear dumb STP jacket that can be tossed when warmed up. Make sure number is in the correct placement and secured. Eat PB& J, drink gatorade/nuun. Pee if not able to at end of swim. Meet each other at designated spot and wait if the other one is not there. If other person is not there in 30 minutes then leave.

Goal: 7-9 minutes.

Bike:
Remember MECCA, RAGBRAI, Vashon Island and STP! Remember on tail out and first lap to be solid, but reigning ourselves in so that second lap and tail back we have energy to step it up (based on advice of IMMoo veterans). We want to feel as if we are going strong and solid, but we could go faster and that faster would not be a sprint. Breathe! Take in the scenery, talk to the animals, and definitely say, "hi cows!" Enjoy the ride, remembering that biking in the country is fun.

Ride Breakdown: The ride is a 17 mile tail, 2 loops, and a tail back to town. Loop goes through 3 towns and the towns 13 miles apart. 4 tough hills (per jillyfish, an IMMoo veteran) all coming between 2nd and 3rd town (Cross Plains to Verona). It seems the course has a great way to break it down mentally. To quote jillyfish, "I think about it as 17 miles to the loop (easily do-able in my head), 13 miles to each town, and 13 miles to each town again, and 17 back to Madison--voila, you are done!" Dedicating the hills to Jennifer and Trina who rode up Mt. St. Helen's with us after Meg told them it "wasn't very hilly." It is a volcano after all. Try not to stop until we have completed the first loop (coordinate with special needs stop and bathrooms). Meg will need to express milk during bathroom stops. Because, nothing says fun like hand expressing milk into a Honeybucket (port-a-potty) urinal.

If we get flats or have mechanical issues, we will remain calm, only freak out a bit, and then force ourselves to belly-laugh to break the tension...after all this really is a silly overly-privileged race. Then we will get on with it and fix the whatever and get back on the course and if we can't, we will throw our bikes away and start drinking. Check time after first loop. Pick up special needs bags to replace food, etc. Eat and drink regularly (every 15-30 minutes). Refill with Gatorade/fluids as needed at aid stations. Get a banana if offered.

Meg is eating: margarita salt cliff blocks, peanut butter filled pretzels, fig newtons, nature's path peanut butter energy bars, chocolate Gu, PB&J. Drinking: H2O from camelback; bottle of nuun.

Jen is eating: snausages, PB&J, peanut butter filled pretzels, fig newtons, power bars, margarita salt cliff blocks, cola cliff blocks, creamsicle Gu. Drinking: H2O from camelback; bottle of gatorade. Jen is also taking endurolytes, 1-3 per hour if hot.

Remember we are a team, doing this together to finish together. We have done a lot of long, hard hilly rides together with far less training and much more baggage (physical not emotional). For instance, 18% grades in Connecticut, the hilliest state in the union that no one knows about. Or, 204 miles in one day when no one should even ride more than 70 miles ever. Or, finally, 5200 feet elevation gain in 52 miles of riding...that is just wrong. Be honest with each other re: our needs when we know them, not after we have buried them for miles and miles. Consciously check-in, encourage each other, and respect each other's process and pacing. As a team, use our individual strengths (meg-endurance and consistent pacing over time; jen-strong at beginning and pushes our limits to reach our potential) to make us stronger and complete the course with energy left for the run. Dedicating the second lap and home-stretch to each other because we always get each other through the tough rides.

Spin it out the last 2-3 miles to get legs ready for run. Let helpers take bike to wherever they take it.

Finish strong goal: 7:30:00
Realistic goal: 7:15:00
Pie in the sky goal: 6:50:00

T2:
Change all clothing because really, we're doing this thing in 14 hours-ish...no need to wear the same sweaty, salty, crusty outfit all day. Put on run shorts (2), new bra, new shirt, new socks, and running shoes, and visor. Ditch sunglasses unless glaring. Re-apply friction zone to: underarms, under boobs, around belly button, around bra straps, inner thighs, feet. Drink nuun/gatorade. Put heat patches on jen's low back. Take endurolytes, pepto-bismol, ibuprofen and compazine (in hopes of warding off all inner evilness). Eat either PB&J (if tolerable) or Gu. Make sure number is properly placed and secured. Hoot and holler for making the bike cut-off. Whoo hoo. Exit.

Goal: 5 minutes

Run:
Walk for the first 10 minutes. Make a plan for how long we can run at that point; aim for 20 minutes. Then begin 10 minute "Alternating Ownership Chunks"- a little game we have come up with to break down the run; e.g. meg says "we shall run for 7 minutes and walk for 3." The next 10 minutes is jen's choice of run-walk breakdown. Remember Admiral and Oregon Street, those bitchy hills! Breathe and settle in. Walk through all aid stations every 1-2 miles. Eat bites of something at every aid station. Alternate gatorade and H2O. Dedicate the first lap of the run to Pig, Petey, Jeannette and Brooke for watching Lucy so we could shuffle along Alki. Dedicate the second lap to Kelsey, Chris, Erica, and Dayna for watching Lucy, thinking Jen is pretty, and being the fabu queer "kids" that they are. Enjoy the spectators and volunteers (remembering to always thank them). Talk with other racers and encourage them as needed and appropriate. Soak in the sounds of the finish approach (about a 1 mile out). Reflect on our journey, stay upright, watch footing, begin celebration, stay present and near each other. Only speed through the shoot if there is a chance of coming in at sub-14 or sub-15 or sub-17 for that matter. Otherwise, enjoy the shoot, the crowd, our families, and listen for our ironic announcements, "Meg and Jen you are Ironmen!" Grab hands and hoot and holler with our joined hands waving above our heads and cross finish line (no skipping).

Finish strong goal: 5:30:00
Realistic goal: 5:00:00
Pie in the sky goal: 4:45:00

Overall race goal:
Finish strong goal: 14:38:00
Realistic goal: 13:43:00
Pie in the sky goal: 12:58:00

Bottom line goal: Sub 17:00:00

This entire race is dedicated to our families: Mary, Charlie, Doug, Michelle, Sam, Everett, Number 3, Elise, Jim, Robert, Aline, Pig, and Petey. Without your support (financial, emotional, lucy-watching, house-hold running, and just putting up with us) we absolutely could not have done this. We love you all and are deeply grateful. Thank you.

A big fat thank you to our training partners and friends, Jennifer and Trina. Without Alone-Plus...we would just have been doing this alone! You have both demonstrated courage, strength, and trust in the process, each other, and us in remarkable ways.

And to Lucy, our fabulous, amazing, awesome, funny, sweet, strong, adorable, independent, sociable baby. Thank you for being exactly who you are and who you will become. You rock and we love you.

To our dogs, Zia and Otter, we promise a trip to the dog park in your very near future. Really, we promise, seriously, we mean it this time.

And, finally to each other: "You may not remember the time you let me go first. Or the time you dropped back to tell me it wasn't that far to go. Or the time you waited at the crossroads for me to catch up. You may not remember any of those, but I do & this is what I have to say to you: today, no matter what it takes, we ride home together." Brian Andreas


Iron Meg, IM CDA 2006 finish

Baristas are not neutral

Have I mentioned that I totally *heart* baristas? Of course living in Seattle if I didn't love them, I'd be reducing my community-love options by about 60%, so it is rather a necessity of life here. That said, I choose to love baristas. It is not about the coffee...though coffee does rock. My love is deeper than the bean....my love is about the art of barista-ness.

On the surface one might think that being a coffee barista is simply about the taking of orders and the delivering of the coffee service. Wrong! Being a barista is much more complex and sophisticated than all that. A barista must not only take the order and serve the coffee, but in doing so said barista is interacting with people in need. I'm again, not talking about the coffee. Sure, we all WANT the coffee....who doesn't want the coffee? The needs brought into a coffee house by the masses of mocha drinkers are plentiful and unspoken. The barista must intuit these needs...and the barista as artiste and humanitarian does just that.

This morning, for instance, I went into Cafe on the Ave..because I love their coffee, but I heart one particular barista who talks with me every time I get my 16 oz. iced americano with room. I didn't walk up to the cashier and say, "i'd love a 16 oz. iced americano, some compassion, and a little inspiration." No, I just order the coffee....and a cookie. Anyway, this particular barista asked about my weekend. You know how people ask about your weekend in the elevator or other moments when we feel awkward and don't know what to say? Well, this wasn't what she was doing. Now maybe she didn't really care what I did this weekend...but in true barista artiste form....she really seemed like she cared. So, I actually answered.

I am not a big fan of small talk and even a smaller fan of big talk about myself...so usually, I just mumble something about being busy or not remembering what I did and move along. Today, I was in need of connection, to myself, to her, to the world...to something...and my barista friend in her truly most soothing and therapeutic tone asked me about my weekend. So, I shared that my partner and I are training for an Ironman so we biked super far and ran 19 miles. She did the low whistle that people do when you tell them you are doing an Ironman and said, "wow, that's great." I heard this as "wow, you are ok." And it was just the message I needed from the world this morning...that I'm ok.

But, the interaction didn't end there. 16 oz. iced americano already in hand, she could have just turned her attention to the next coffee order, but she asked "when is it?" I heard, "you look like you are having a tough time. you are ok. when is it?" Projection? Transference? I don't care what you call it...my barista friend was meeting this unspoken need.

"September 7th," I replied. She said, "Oh, that gives me goosebumps. How exciting." I heard, "oh, that gives me goosebumps. how exciting." She reminded me of my own excitement about the event and how events like the ironman are inspiring for others. In that moment I remembered how I watched the ironman on television when I was a tweenager and how I thought it was impossible for me to do such a thing...even as I longed to be one of those athletes. I remembered Julie Moss ( http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tRB1p89k7_I ) running, walking, stumbling, and finally crawling across the finish line. I remembered how I cried then and how I cried two nights ago when I watched that finish again on youtube. Sassy Femme wrote about this today...it is not the ability of a human to swim, bike, and run that makes me cry, rather it is the love, spirit, and connection to life that is made visible in these moments.

I mean really, who gives a hoot if I, Cookie the Monster, can swim, bike, and run? That really isn't the point. The point is about connecting to something within myself and others that isn't simply physical or mental...but really is a demonstration of what can be felt and done...and not by just the individual. In fact, naming ironman an individual endeavor completely obscures the privilege surrounding most of the athletes participating. Queer Corn and I are privileged with family who love and watch our little girl while we train. We are privileged with enough economic resource to join a gym, buy nice bikes, get good running shoes, go to physical therapy, eat healthy organic foods, purchase entrance into the race....the list goes on. Let's face it, there are significant economic and social barriers to participating in events like triathlons.

I sometimes feel ashamed about all that privilege....all that access to resource that allows me to do this inane thing. But, my barista friend, a friend Jenn B., Sassy Femme, the Olympics, and remembering that white guilt or any other kind of guilt associated with privilege is really rather unproductive, have all reminded me that i can inspire myself and others to connect to that deeper love and spirit, something I believe our very young country needs desperately right now...and that is nothing to be ashamed about.

So you see, baristas are not neutral...none of us really are. And, none of us are truly disconnected from any other one of us. Every person in my life is in some way contributing to my ability to do this triathlon...have a baby...get a phd...think, feel, live. And hopefully in doing this little big race I will connect with that deeper love and spirit and send it back out.

Thank you baristas everywhere for delivering me with life's blood...coffee, connection, and love.

While the race hasn't happened yet....thank you to all of the folks in my world and beyond my immediate world who have made this possible: meg, lucy, zia, otter, jen, trina, mom, dad, robert, aline, pig and petey, the entire extended Reichenbach fam, bob, lois, meghan, gita, ramona, peris, morna, mary, charlie, doug, michelle, sam, everett, number 3, uma, jenn, jeannette, brook, baristas everywhere, the roadrunner, cookie monster, grover, ducky, jamie, kelsey, erica, the women of raising in the rain and first weeks, abba (yes, that abba), john denver (yes, that john denver), the Q Center students (www.qcenter.washington.edu ), the dixie chicks, regina, bell hooks, patricia hill collins, all women and gender queer athletes, judith butler, carla....and the list continues...more later.

Just when you think you can't...you know what?

You can! Or I can! You saw my last post...I was wondering if we were there yet. Well, this week's workouts (minus the heinous 13.25 mile run) have been awesome! Yesterday, I ran 5 miles at 9 minute mile pace (OK you speedsters do not snicker...this is fast when your legs resemble balloons the like of Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade...without the strings and helium of course).

Anyway, then I went to an hour spinning class where we did speed workouts at some ridiculously high resistance. But did I cry? Well, a little....but I also rocked my workouts. And then today, after one little piece of feedback from my fabulous partner the Stingray swimmer....I knocked off 2.5 minutes of my time for the 2.4 miles in the swim! This was my best swim yet as I grew stronger and faster over the course of the mileage. And, (again, speedsters no snickering) I came in at a strong 1:12:00....very psyched about this.

I am still super tired...my legs are still edema-ed...and I'm still cranky and dizzy (but that has nothing to do with this training), but guess what? I again believe that I can do this silly thing called Ironman. In fact, today I thumb my nose the the general direction of Ironman and chortle in that stupid US American-mocking-the-French laugh. I love finding hope in the depth of despair...and really, this is a silly little race we're talking about...but the learning is still so very applicable. As my friend reminded me...what we do, how we are on the yoga mat so too are we in life. Well, today I rocked the mat!

Are we there yet?

I'm ready to be done now...thanks for playing. 5 weeks out...so close, yet 5 seemingly endless weeks away. I am dead-on-my-feet tired. I can't concentrate. I'm edgy and cranky and grumpy...basically all the shades of irritated one can be and still not quite be angry. Though sometimes I'm that too.

For instance, yesterday 7 miles into our 13.25 mile run, I was angry with the Admiral hill....it was longer than I had remembered it being and I didn't think that was very nice of it. I wanted to punch that hill, but I was too tired. I just kept running up it instead. Meg and I ran every hill of that run...which Meg said made her feel proud and confident. I guess that is a better way of interpreting the events than being pissed at the hills for being there in the first place. I, however, opted for the latter.

I am actually beginning to feel a bit disoriented...do you think that means something...like I'm tired and should sleep? Perhaps. I also have been experiencing magical thinking. Example: I know that I have done all of this training....but sometimes I trick myself into believing that I haven't actually done anything and that I am super out of shape. Did I really ride 205 miles in a day? Nah, no one could do that! Did I do that 18 mile run in 98 degree weather and humidity that made rain look dry? No...not possible! See...very tricky....disorienting even. Is 77 laps (up and back) in a 25 meter pool really 2.4 miles? Or is it just like 100 feet? I don't know anymore.

I just keep moving forward...and I am excited about the race...even if I don't care about it today or yesterday. I know this is "normal" (whatever the hell that is) at this point in the training. Training is just like the race....you have to face the moments when you are disoriented, edgy, cranky, crabby, tired and then just move forward. Well, I guess you don't have to do that...I do.

Plus...I'm having this weird edema where my legs swell at night....swell up tighter than a drum....like someone pumped my lower half full of water or air....like they might split at the seams edema. It's so very sexy...not to mention comfortable.

Blah, blah, blah, crank, crab, groan and moan. I just thought I'd share the under belly of this thing called Ironman training. I'm sure I'll perk up...but right now I'm still wondering if we're there yet.

A mountain, a bird, and misogynist discourse

A mountain
As Sassy-Femme noted, we rode up Mt. St. Helen's to get our climbing legs on. For me, the ride was great for many reasons: 1) SF and TT (their longest and steepest ride ever) showed incredible endurance and mental toughness getting up to the top of that ride; 2) it was beautiful and you could see the mountain (which is more often than not, not the case); 3) i was riding with my sweetie who has a depth of stamina that bouys and astounds me; 4) TT followed her intuition and her body so that we all stayed safe, healthy, and happy; and 4) i felt really strong.

I am excited about the bike portion of the triathlon and know that Meg and I will have a strong race. We plan on doing the entire race together, pushing and/or pulling each other to the finish. When Meg did her first IM two years ago, I saw a couple doing the whole thing together and it was just really sweet and powerful to watch them support each other through the physical, emotional, etc. ups and downs of the race. The race as a metaphor is not lost on me.

A Bird
Update on Jeoff, who we are now simply calling the Roadrunner because I don't know how to pronounce both of the F's in his name: We went back to his spinning class last week, even though I had not forgiven him for smiting my compliment. Meg decided that the Roadrunner must be loved for his performance and not for his interpersonal skills. He should be watched and not spoken to. He should be theatrically enjoyed and not befriended. Sage advice...so I will be content to spin my little legs off and simply bird watch.

Misogynist Discourse
I have an issue with my body....have since I was a kid and I come by it honestly. My mother thought she had a "weight problem" as did both of my grandmothers....perhaps their mothers before them. Shocking! A woman, with a hang-up about weight? Really, in this country?

Yes, as trite and platitudinous (so not a word) as it is...I have always struggled with my body image. Now, I have been thin, chubby, awkward and round, curvy, muscular, lean, flabby, and somewhat overweight...but always powerful, athletic, and able to take up physical space. Through all of those shapes I have thought the same thing: "I am fat. I am not what a woman should be. I am not what a woman should look like. I am fat."

OK people....i have internalized this misogynistic discourse not only at the hands of my mother and my mother's mother and her mother's mother's mother. Notice how we hold the women responsible for perpetuating misogyny. This fat discourse is really a U.S. fairy tale and not the good pro-woman kind like where....hmmm....are there good pro-woman fairy tales?

So, I learned this disgust for my body, my fat, my "bigness," and I continue to struggle to find both my strength and my beauty. As a kid, I thought that I was in the wrong kind of body because I loved baseball, basketball, running around, getting dirty, climbing trees, digging holes, making forts. I learned my gendering properly and thought there was something wrong with my "girl-ness." I was that girl that everyone called tomboy and I mostly wore the label with pride. But, I thought inside, "I'm not what a girl should be...and I'm fat." I know this is not a unique story...I think in some regard that is exactly my point. It isn't unique because the misogynist discourses surrounding gender and weight are pointed and purposeful, these discourses police us. Yeah, yeah...Judith Butler says it better...so go read her blog.

You know what....now that I'm into this discussion this far....I don't have the wherewithal to continue. I think my point is....I continue to struggle with this...even though my body is going to move 140.6 miles in one day in three different kinds of events and sometimes all I can think about is how fat I might look in the damn wetsuit.

more on this later....i will just continue to subvert these discourses even as they inhabit my body.

Week 11...13 More!

So excited to be blogging! Today Meg and I had a fabulous workout...a mini-triathlon in and of itself. We started with an hour swim.

Now recently my swims have been feeling great, smooth, fast, tireless, and other great swimming adjectives. Apparently, however, that was so last week because this morning I had forgotten how to swim. My head was moving all over the place, my hips (which you should know are made of stone) were not even rotating as miniscule-y as they normally do, my hands were entering at bizarre angles, and I kept getting other people's hair caught in my nose clip (yes people, a nose clip...i keep all the orifices plugged during the swim). It was really just wrong. Meg and I were splitting a lane and I kept thinking, "she's kicking my ass, swimming like a freaking sting ray (you thought I was going to say dolphin...but that was just too obvious). Anyway, 30 minutes in we decided to do some 50 meter sprints. This seemed akin to asking our 5 month old to do a series of crawl sprints given that she doesn't even turn over yet. Remember, I had forgotten how to swim!

The sprints went well, I remembered how to swim, yada yada yada, we got out of the pool. Yeah, I know, a lot of story build up for a really awkward and disappointing punch line.

Next we were off to our 1 hour spin class...with Jeoff (clearly a gay boy because what straight boy spells Jeoff with an O?). He was AWESOME! It was seriously like Queer as Folk meets American Flyer or Breaking Away (whichever 80's cycling movie you prefer) meets A Chorus Line! This is the only spin class with three acts, people! This guy is a true performer and a kick ass trainer. And, let me just share that the class was full of all his wanna-be 'fag hags' (which i say with all the love, respect, admiration, and campiness that both fags and hags deserve)...so much fun! Anyway, he was as you would expect of a white, gay boy trainer in his late 30's....super-buff, cut, tan, fun salt-n-pepper spiky hair, great dancer, and high high energy! The music was great...Cher (of course), club music (unrecognizable to this 38 year-old once-lesbian-identified queer girl and mommy), and a sweet 80's rock mix. He began the class, or should I say his opening number, was dancing through the rows of the 20 of us, bouncing up and down, and pouncing onto his spin bike with the agility of a puma, and then proceeding to pedal in a way that can only be compared to the blurry circle that is the Roadrunner's legs.

And with a Meep Meep....we went from 0 to 'oh-my-god-i-fucking-want-to-die-but-he-is-so-fun-that-i-want-him-to-like-me-and-be-my-best-friend-so-i'll-keep-pedaling-even-though-my-power-bar-is-going-to-make-an-uncredited-appearance' in 60 seconds. The class was great...I left wetter (from sweat) than I was when we were swimming. And, then came our mistake. We thought that his performance meant he was nice, kind, perhaps humble and would maybe even be polite to someone paying him a compliment. What made us think this? We are part of many queer and straight communities....we've seen boys like him before. He was performing, performing Jen...and now the performance was over, AND SCENE! He could not have been less interested in our feeble attempt at becoming his best friend and the worst part is, I (a pseudo-intellectual, doctoral student, with a penchant for words) said "funnest" in a sentence. All we could do was shamefully leave the spinning theater and hold onto the genius that was his performance.

Then we ran for 20 minutes....no great stories...I partially blame Jeoff for my lack of creativity during the run.

Tomorrow....we rest...actually Meg works, I take care of Lucy, and the parents arrive on the scene. Until then...